


Things You Don't Forget

by anemptymargin



Category: Psych
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 20:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A late night at the station leads to dinner and wine, and back to Karen’s home where old lovers learn that there are some things that they’ve never forgotten about their past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things You Don't Forget

**Author's Note:**

> Probably some date fudging. I’ve wanted to do this pairing for ages and have just been trying to figure out a way to make it work. I think this does the trick.

It was a quiet Thursday and at the station, well after most of the officers had scattered for the day, Henry Spencer was hunched over a stack of forms he’d been putting off for the better part of a month. He’d hit the delightful twilight hour where the coffee was fresh and everything was nice and quiet. His mind was clear, running on autopilot as he hummed through one page after another without pause.

 

Henry heard the soft click of her heels when she came out of her office, there was a slight drag on the left side – compensating for sore feet. She stopped at the coffee machine and he didn’t even have to look up to know it would be double sugar and extra cream… she went off her diet after six on long evenings. His pen paused on line thirty-six waiting for her to turn back toward her office, but instead she lingered. Henry cleared his throat, alerting her to his presence before continuing the report.

 

“Mister Spencer.” Her voice preceded her footsteps, but it didn’t take even a breath for the steady click to continue toward his desk; “you’re working late.”

 

“I’m not hourly so it’s not like the clock’s running,” he smiled, signing off on the page with a slight flourish. “We’re back to formalities now?”

 

She chuckled softly; “Henry...”

 

“Yes, Karen?” He looked sidelong at her with a lingering grin.

 

If it were anyone else, she would have been upset at the tease, but instead she laughed again and shook her head. “You know you don’t have to pull these late nights…”

 

“Neither do you, and yet here we are…” He raised an eyebrow and licked his lips. “I’ve got two more sets to go and I’m caught up on Shawn’s last case – you know I could probably train Gus to do this…”

 

“What, and pass up the chance to spend a few days a week upping the collective experience level of Santa Barbra’s finest?” Karen shrugged, leaning her hip against the far edge of his desk. “If it’s all the same, I’ll keep you here. I like you here.”

 

“Oh?” His voice took on a somewhat more hopeful note and he forced himself to make the pen move, forming words on instinct. He knew that tone all too well, and he also knew it was probably unintentional but he liked to hear it no less. “Is that so?”

 

She didn’t respond, only took a few long sips off her coffee and then asked; “Hungry? I was thinking about ordering something and thought you might want some.”

 

“Sure, what’re you thinking?” He’d had a sandwich an hour before, but she looked like she could use the company and he wasn’t exactly disappointed at the prospect of abandoning the monotony for a little while. After a pause, he put down his pen and sat up, leaning back in the desk chair with a squeal of protest. He arched an eyebrow when he caught her sizing him up curiously; “What, did I get coffee on my tie?” he smirked, lifting up the light blue silk to double check the crosshatched pattern – nope, no stain.

 

“No, no… just… for a second there you reminded me of something.” She shook her head and took another long drink. “Um, Chinese sound okay?”

 

“Fine.” He shrugged, the slight pink of her cheeks telling an interesting story before he added; “There’s a place down by the pier that does an excellent Kung Pao shrimp.”

 

“Ahh, but that’s down by the pier, I doubt they’ll deliver this far out.” Karen shifted her weight off her left foot and onto the desk – new shoes, probably giving her blisters.

 

Henry’s smile didn’t falter; “I guess we’ll have to go get it, then. Give you a chance to get off those new shoes before the blisters get worse.”

 

Karen was quiet for a long moment, she’d known Henry more than long enough to know that he’d put together that she was wearing new shoes – not that he had purposefully taken note despite the slight perk it gave her to think someone had noticed the Bruno Maglis she’d been wearing most of the day. “I don’t have any blisters, but I appreciate the offer.” She licked her lips and shifted back onto her feet, hiding any chance of a pained wince.

 

“Left foot, outside arch. But I understand, they’re really nice overpriced high heels. I’d have suggested wearing them with a skirt instead of pantsuit to show off your legs a little better, though.”

 

She couldn’t help but smile slightly, lowering her eyes to hide the amusement that he really had noticed. “Yeah, well sometimes I like to treat myself.”

 

“If you really wanted to treat yourself, you’d have bought slippers.” He laughed, “I think designer shoes make you feel attractive and subsequently more powerful. You’ve spent half the day making up reasons to walk around outside your office to show off and rubbed up a hell of a blister thinking nobody noticed when in fact, Detective O’Hara bought a pair in red right off the Bruno Magli website this afternoon.” He watched her shift again, the slightly open toe of the mid-height heels catching the toe of her nylons. “They’re a half size too small.”

 

She set her jaw, “they were on clearance.”

 

“And probably half the price O’Hara paid for them.” He finished, leaning forward again before asking; “Would you like to go to dinner now?”

 

“I believe you already asked and I refused.”

 

“I suggested it, and you denied the obvious blister on your left foot. I figured the direct route might work a little bit better the second time around.” He flashed another hopeful smirk and added; “I’m thinking we forget the Kung Pao shrimp and shut down for the night; catch a couple plates of pasta and a bottle of wine at that bistro down the street and get you home before the little one goes to bed.”

 

“She’ll be asleep in an hour, Henry. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were asking me out on a date.” She looked up from her coffee as she spoke, a somewhat accusing tone to her voice. She wasn’t exactly a stranger to the Henry Spencer not-a-date; though it had been some time.

 

He shrugged again; he hadn’t really intended it to come off that way – but in a sort of non-romantic fashion it could be construed as a date. “You know I would never put a married woman in that position – just a couple of old friends getting a bite to eat after work.”

 

She let out a slight sigh, it did sound like a decent end to her long day. After a short pause, watching his expectant smile shift from a question to a clear acknowledgement that she didn’t even have to agree – he’d clearly won her over – she said; “One condition… I pick the wine.”

 

“You got a problem with my wine palate?” He was up on his feet and picking up his suit jacket before she responded.

 

“I’ve got a problem with anyone who thinks they can talk me into leaving work early for anything less than ten dollars a bottle.”

 

***

 

Henry kept his word, and let her drive to the restaurant in relatively comfortable quiet. Once at a corner table, he sat facing the door directly across from her – watching the other woman over the top of his menu as she read the specials. “You know I meant what I said, right? I wouldn’t ask you on a date… I mean, I know you’re married.”

 

Karen chuckled under her breath and replied without looking up; “I know, Henry.” After a brief pause, she looked up to catch his eyes and smiled slightly, “And if I wasn’t?”

 

That was the awkward question, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it – why wouldn’t he? Looking back down behind his menu, he answered; “I think we both know the answer to that one, considering.”

 

“Considering what?” She lowered the tall menu to the table, leaning inward with her chin on her curled fingers; “you’re not seriously still on what happened between us? That was twenty years ago…”

 

He shrugged innocently; “Maybe. Doesn’t feel like twenty years, I’ve got a really good memory.”

 

She laughed again and shook her head, once more lowering her eyes. “Mmm, I remember.” She didn’t think about it much, but she had to admit there were times when she’d let the memory linger herself. “I remember a lot of things.”

 

Despite the frankly disturbing amount of scotch he’d had that first night; Henry was pretty damn clear on what had happened. He’d been at the bar, on a stool at one end of ten feet of polished mahogany with a basket of peanuts and a half bottle of Johnnie Walker black label, when she came in and tossed herself down at the opposite end. They’d worked together on a few cases since he made detective, but they weren’t exactly close enough to know each other outside the force. Her hair was mussed in the back, her makeup smudged – but with no runny mascara so she hadn’t been crying. He made her pretty quick for having a bad day and wasn’t exactly having a peach of a week himself; with a few drinks already in him, he figured he’d do what he could to make it a little better for both of them.

 

“You were wearing a tiny little sundress that barely came to the middle of your thighs on that barstool.” He chuckled, licking his lips as he looked away from her casual gaze; “It wasn’t hard to tell you’d had a bad date.”

 

“God, the worst.” She laughed; “I still can’t believe so many years later, I married him.”

 

“I can,” he replied honestly. “Guy gets ahold of woman like you once in a lifetime. If he doesn’t do everything in his power to treat you like a princess, you should have dropped him back in the nineties.”

 

“For a while, I did.” She nodded, her smile faltering a little at the memory; “Not because of, you know… we just weren’t getting along for a while.”

 

Henry nodded slowly, offering the waiter a terse smile when he came to pour their wine. They hadn’t talked about what happened, let alone in such candid terms… in a way it felt good to get it off his chest. “You, uh… you never did tell me the whole story of what made you want to drink your troubles away.”

 

And they did drink, far too much. He’d approached her confidently, offered her a pair of shots – a single to make the second one feel better, and then a double to make things a little warm and fuzzy inside. When she opened up enough to tell him she was fighting with her boyfriend, he didn’t ask for details… didn’t want to make it personal. Just a couple cops bonding over a half a bottle of booze. Wouldn’t be the first time, or the last. When they reached the bottom of the bottle, he’d walked her home for what seemed like miles – the pair of them wandering with his arm looped around her waist at just after ten on weekday… it was no small miracle half of Santa Barbra didn’t recognize them out of uniform and he couldn’t help but wonder how many people knew it had happened at all.

 

Karen folded her menu and took a long drink of red wine as she considered her answer to the question. It was a long time ago, she was a different woman then… not even thirty yet, headstrong to a fault and yet at times she felt far too fragile for her choice of career. It had been just one of those moments that night, things had been going well with her then boyfriend – but they couldn’t stop arguing when it came to work. “He wanted me to turn down the promotion I was offered.” She let out a humorless laugh; “I told him he could either get used to my life revolving around the force or walk away.”

 

“I take it he chose wrong.”

 

“Yeah, well… in the end it worked out. I took the job and he got over it.” She shrugged and said, “He’s understood for a while now that it’s what I do.”

 

Nodding again, Henry took a sip off his glass – letting an easy silence fall between them. They’d commiserated about the subject that night and he’d told her about his agreeing to sign the divorce papers and how his commitment to the job in Madeline’s mind exceeded his commitment to their marriage. Even then he’d known she was right; and it provided some small amount of comfort after the fact. But then, at that time it had also made him bitter… even more so to see the same bane affecting an attractive young woman with her life ahead of her. At least, that’s what he told himself when they finally found their way back to her apartment and finished off the last of her beer before she straddled his lap to put her head on his shoulder and ask why more men didn’t understand why justice was more important than getting married and having a baby.

 

“It’s funny…” he chuckled, holding his glass between both hands as he stared into the dark red liquid. “We must have been together nearly every day for a few weeks… and I never really asked why.”

 

“Blowing off steam…” Karen shook her head, hiding a slight blush behind another sip of wine; “I sure remember a certain attractive detective who liked to take risks.”

 

He laughed again; “And I remember a determined young sergeant that asked me to use my handcuffs.”

 

An embarrassed cry closed her throat and she lowered her head, her hair falling into her face as a shamed giggle overtook her. “Wow… yeah, well, I guess you do try anything once. And I seem to recall that you didn’t hesitate to bring them out that night.”

 

“And the next morning.” Henry raised an eyebrow, licking his lips. He’d never intended for it to turn into some sort of fling, he honestly hadn’t intended to sleep with her at all until he felt her weight holding him down against the sofa – her head buried in the crook of his neck as she murmured complaints about men that weren’t cops and began to kiss at the sensitive flesh above his collar. He was pretty sure then that they were both drunk enough to make that bad decision together. But the next day, when they woke up wrapped up in her sheets and sober – that he couldn’t blame on the booze… nor the weeks immediately following it.

 

After a long pause, she looked back up at him and stifled another laugh; her face still ruddy but her eyes softer than they had been before. Henry wanted to believe it was the same look she’d given him that first sober morning, when he’d stared her down – waiting for her reaction to finding him in her bed, to know if she thought they’d made a mistake or not. He could almost see her hair then; longer, blonder, knotted in sleep-snarls that hung in her face as her lips and eyes said exactly what he’d expected… it was something they shouldn’t be doing, but would do again. She’d pressed in close that morning and kissed him hard, pushing him onto his back on the bed while her hand took hold of his morning stiffness and erased all doubt.

 

Still shaking her head, Karen regained her full composure as the waiter came with their order and another round of wine. As she considered dropping the subject altogether, she broke off a chunk of her bread and dredged it through the heavy marinara. Finally, she said; “We were both pretty crazy back then, Henry. I’ll give it that much.” When she looked back up at him again, he was smiling. “You know I never told him when we got back together.”

 

Henry had let her go, it was no secret – sure, he could have made an ass of himself and fought to make it something it wasn’t… but when it came down to it he knew she had a history with the guy. In the end, he still figured he made the right decision to walk away. “Probably for the best, my guess is he wouldn’t have taken it well.”

 

She nodded slowly and reached across the table to let her hand rest on his left wrist, stopping him mid-bite. “Just for the record, Henry, when I got back together with…”

 

“Don’t,” Henry cut her off before she could say it. “What’s done is done, Karen. That was twenty years ago.”

 

“I mean it, if you had asked I would have gone with it.” She squeezed his wrist gently, and then let go – tracing her fingers down the curve of his thumb before pulling away. “It’s too bad.”

 

He let out a low groan and shook his head; hoping to God he hadn’t made an ass of himself. “I need another glass of wine.”

 

***

 

In a lot of ways, she’d been everything he wanted at that point in his life; to feel like a man – to feel wanted at the lowest point of his life. The younger woman looked up to him professionally and made him feel like a million bucks. As they idly talked their way through their second glass, and then a third; the topic wandered all directions but always seemed to settle back on memories he’d locked up in the vault for a couple decades. By the time they’d finished a mess of chocolate cream puffs, they were both laughing and probably a little too tipsy to be behind the wheel. It was no surprise when Karen invited him back to her place; they hadn’t talked in ages… and never at a point where they could be candid and even talk about the embarrassing history.

 

Henry settled in comfortably on her sofa, his jacket slung over the arm as he tucked into a warm mug of instant coffee and waited for Karen to dismiss the nanny for the evening and check in on Iris. It seemed such a stark contrast to the last time they’d genuinely spent time together; their wild past replaced with her particular brand of domesticity and his easing into long term bachelorhood. “Nine o’clock and all’s well?” He smiled when she sat down on the center cushion beside him, already changed into a much more comfortable looking pair of flannel pajamas.

 

“Mmm,” she murmured, leaning against Henry’s shoulder after taking up her drink. “Hope you don’t mind I had to get out of those shoes…”

 

He waited a moment for a ‘something more comfortable’ joke, but none came – the last time he’d seen her in something less than professional it’d been a good deal more revealing to say the least. Green silk, black lace… stockings that seemed to go on for days…

 

“Henry?” Karen looked at him with a raised eyebrow, a wry smile lingering on her lips. “Lost you for a minute there.”

 

He chuckled and shook his head; “Yeah, just… thinking.” A soft flush crept over the top of his head and he ran his fingers over his scalp as though it would counteract it. “A little too much wine, I think.”

 

“You can stay the night if you need to, I wouldn’t mind.” For a brief moment, she seemed to hesitate, looking down into her tumbler before taking a long sip of her brandy.

 

“We’ll see,” he murmured, watching her closely as she leaned against his shoulder. With a somewhat nervous chuckle, he said; “I don’t know if it’s such a good idea, Karen… your husband…”

 

“My husband won’t be here.”

 

The timbre of her voice was more than enough to send up Henry’s red flags, a few knots south of sober or not. He swallowed back the sudden lump in his throat and set aside his mug, making no secret of his arm tentatively draping across her shoulders. He tried to tell himself it was only as a friend responding to her friendly lean against his chest – that there was no thought of an ulterior motive in it, but it simply wasn’t the case. He waited a long moment, enjoying the closeness before saying; “What’re we doing here, Karen?”

 

She looked up at him with steely eyes that he’d seen a hundred times before – she was always hard to read, any number of things could be going on in her brain and he wouldn’t be able to pick up on half of them. And then they softened and she licked her lips; realization dawning on the older man a heartbeat before she pushed herself up his thigh and pressed an unexpectedly passionate kiss against his lips. The thought of pulling away didn’t occur to him; even as her tongue parted his lips he responded by deepening it even further, he was turning to lean into her and press her back against the sofa. “Yes…” she whispered through clenched teeth, not giving Henry the opportunity to question her as she kissed him again.

 

He didn’t resist, her soft hips and the eager tug at his shirt spurred him ever forward and he felt his palm flat against her stomach and pushing up under her t-shirt until it cupped the tender rise of one bare breast. She was softer now, her skin ringed with the dips of stretch marks but pliable and heavy in his palm.  A shuddering moan escaped his throat when she broke away, feeling the uncomfortable dig of his arousal against the front of his slacks. “Karen…” He groaned, eyes half lidded when he finally allowed himself to look at her.

 

“Henry?” Her lips brushed against his again, lingering partway between a smile and another kiss as she pushed herself back against him. Planting both hands against his shoulders, she pushed hard until he allowed her to straddle his hips – kissing him desperately as her fingers worked open enough buttons to slip her hand inside his shirt and tease at his chest.

 

Squeezing harder at her breast, Henry was almost shocked to find his other hand sliding past the waistband of her pajama pants and immediately searching out the warmth between her thighs. He groaned against her open mouth and his body throbbed when his middle finger slid easily down her slit. It had been entirely too long since he’d touched any woman, let alone a very specific woman that he knew he really, really shouldn’t be touching. “Karen…” He forced himself to break the kiss, his hands almost memorizing the map of her skin – betraying him with the lingering touch; “we… we…” She was a grown woman, he knew what she was doing… what she was getting herself into, and when it came down to it that made all the difference, right? “We haven’t done this in a long time.”

 

She chuckled softly and licked her lips, purposefully shifting her hips until his hard on was forced against the curve of her ass – teasing him. “It’s like riding a horse, Henry,” she grinned, kissing him again.

 

His fingers flexed against her sex, turning his wrist just enough for his thumb to stroke over her clit. “You flatter me,” he chuckled, letting out a shocked whine when she worked a hand between them and unzipped his pants.

 

“Not by too much if memory serves right…” She pushed herself up slightly and teased her fingertips over the hard length as it pushed up through the slit in his shorts; “And it always does.”

 

He moaned again, flushing hot and stammering for some sort of response. “God… what’re… we… really…” Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against her shoulder – barely feeling her shift, wiggling away from his palm only a moment to push things even further.

 

“Fast.” She whispered, finally kicking her panties and pajamas off in a twisted knot before resting back against him; “Hard.”

 

Henry took a deep breath, letting it out with an obvious sigh. “Do you really want to do this?” He forced out the words, resisting the urge to lift his hips when she guided the tip of his cock against her slit – stroking gently. In twenty years she sure hadn’t lost her touch when it came to turning him to mush. “Oh God… Karen…”

 

She pushed against him even harder, taking him in to the hilt with a low groan before muttering; “Yes. God, yes.” She sighed, “Please…”

 

His body flushed hot with the realization, it was going to happen – not that it wasn’t already happening, but that it was going to continue happening.  Giving up on words, one shaking hand held her tight around the middle as the other buried itself in her soft, blonde hair. Henry kissed at her throat, holding back each shuddering moan that threatened to escape as she took total charge, riding him just as hard and fast as she’d inferred that she would.

 

“Mmm, Henry… I can’t believe…” her breathing came in soft, panting gasps with the effort, her wetness spreading across the front of his boxers each time she ground herself down against every rise of his hips to meet her thighs. “This is real.”

 

“We shouldn’t…” He cut himself off with a guttural moan, already feeling the knot in his belly as acutely as the drag of her soft breasts against his shirt.

 

“Don’t stop…” She moaned loudly, taking his head between both hands and staring him down. “I need this, Henry… I’ve needed this for…” she moaned again, one hand dropping away to dig her short nails into his shoulder as she began to tighten around his shallow thrusts; “for a really, really long time…”

 

“All right…” He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat – if she wanted hard, she was going to get it. Knotting his hand in her hair, he gave a rough twist of his wrist guided her down onto her back on the sofa before he let go. “More?” He grunted as he fought open the button of his pants, pushing them around his knees with his shorts before bracing one leg under her thigh and leaning over her. “Remember this?”

 

A shuddering, pleasured cry closed her throat – much louder than either of them had expected in the living room – and she tilted her thighs open, spreading herself as he guided his slick cock once more inside her. She watched him wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open – another, softer moan slipping out with a high-pitched whine when he seemed to tower over her. He seemed just as strong as he had been back then, pinning her shoulders down as he slammed her against the soft cushions with each hard, quick thrust of his hips.

 

He knew he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t last long against the intense waves of pleasure, but he pushed himself to the very edge. Bruising her lips with a long, hard kiss, he began to slow his strokes when he felt the tight squeeze of her climax, digging himself even harder against her until his thighs clenched and he began tipping over the edge. “Christ…” He groaned under her breath and forced himself to pull out, as much as his body demanded he push deeper. “God… Karen… whoa…” He grunted loudly, stroking the dark tip of his cock against her trimmed mound as he came – rubbing it into her hot flesh.

 

For a moment, they were both too lost in what had happened to think clearly. Karen wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down on top of her, smiling with they both moaned at the sensation of his spent member sliding down her slit and dipping just barely inside her once more. “Oh, God…” She sighed, kissing him again. And then she frowned when they broke away; “I’m so sorry, Henry…”

 

“No… no… what?” He swallowed, nuzzling against her cheek to avoid the unexpectedly pensive look on her face.

 

She shook her head and held him another long moment, pulling away as best she could when she felt the brush of his tender kisses against her ear. A lifetime before she would have adored it, they would have probably kissed and teased each other until his face was buried between her thighs – making her come until she begged for him to take her again. As the realization of what had happened fully sunk in, she just felt guilty for letting her desire get away from her. The lack of control, the knowledge that she had broken the rules, already getting to her. Tender and romantic was too much for her to take. “I can’t do this…”

 

“A little late for that, isn’t it?” He sighed, pushing up on his knees and then standing up to redress himself.

 

“Not that… just… God.” She ran her fingers over the sticky product of their indiscretion, the needy throb still lingered and told her loud and clear that her she wanted more, that she wasn’t sorry for what they’d done at all. A long forgotten voice told her to grab him, to pull him toward her and yank down his pants to taste him and tease him into a second time – if that was even possible still; but above it was the unfortunate voice of logic and reason that would have been pretty helpful before she’d kissed Henry. “I wanted to… want to…”

 

“Want to?”

 

She swallowed hard and slipped back into her panties and pajama bottoms, her skin pink with both shame and lingering arousal. “Yeah, well… there’s just some things you remember, you know? And sometimes I do remember them.”

 

He chuckled under his breath and stepped closer to her, leaning down before cupping her chin to draw her hesitant mouth up for another kiss. “I never forgot, Karen.” His voice stopped in his throat and his tongue felt heavy and dull as he forced out; “Never.”

 

“I know, I just…”

 

“You have a good life; we aren’t gonna go mess it up now.” Slowly, he pulled away and said; “It was nice, though… remembering together.”

 

“Stop.” Her voice took on a much more commanding tone and she stood up, grabbing hold of his wrist before he could pull away. “I know what happened, Henry… I mean, sure I had a few drinks but don’t act like I’m innocent here. I know what I want.”

 

“So, what… you’re suggesting some sort of torrid love affair? I’m too old for that game…”

 

“I’m suggesting that this doesn’t have to be an isolated incident.” Her stern expression didn’t shift as she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close. “We’ve got a good thing…”

 

“You have a good thing, a good separate thing that you don’t want to mess up for the sake of a little bit of sex.” He muttered, frowning uneasily; he didn’t want to shoot her down – every bell and whistle in his brain was telling him he’s stupid to back down, but he didn’t want to see her hurt.

 

“A little?” She scoffed with a slight smile and then shook her head; “I mean it, Henry. We should.”

 

“You’re married.” Henry protested, licking his lips; “I’m not going to mess up another marriage.”

 

“Even one that’s already screwed up and maybe has been since before it started?”

 

“Karen… come on, I’ve met the guy. He’s nice, treats you good… treats Iris like a princess.” He pulled away, “How screwed up can it be?”

 

She hesitated and then lowered her head and quietly answered; “We haven’t slept together since I was pregnant.” A long silence fell between them before she added; “Please, don’t do the math on how long it’s been.”

 

“No… I’m not, that’s just…” He lied, he had – it was, frankly, depressing. And still not as long as it had been since he’d actually slept with a woman. “It’s unexpected.”

 

“You’re telling me,” she sighed and shook her head. “It just… doesn’t happen anymore.”

 

He let himself reach out to her again and drew her against his chest, holding her without even realizing that he was for a long moment; “Karen, I…”

 

“Don’t.” She cut him off; “It’s getting late and I’ve got a meeting in the morning.”

 

“We should talk about this,” he held her head against his shoulder, subconsciously stroking over her hair. The pieces were beginning to fall into place; the new hairdo, the expensive shoes, the lingering looks. He didn’t want to outright say it, but it almost felt planned… maybe she didn’t even know she was planning it.

 

Karen looked up at him again and shook her head. “Not right now. Maybe… maybe another night.” She kissed him again, and then pulled away to excuse herself. “You should call a cab; I’m going to go take a long bath before bed.”

 

Confused, and just the slightest bit unsettled, Henry watched her leave – watched her climb the stairs to leave him alone and wondered what the hell had just happened. After several minutes, he heard the water running and then fished his phone out of his pants pocket to call for a ride.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.


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